Otherness. Long have I railed against the plague of Otherness pervading my country. If you are without food, I won't ask you who you voted for before sharing my sandwich. If you wreck your car outside my house, I'm not going to grill you on your religion or your legal status; I'm going to provide … Continue reading These Dark-Bright Days in America
I have one of those faces. Well, no, it's probably not my face, since I don't always wear a friendly expression and tend to get lost in thought a lot, even in public. There's something about me, though, that induces complete strangers to come up to me in public places (including restrooms) and ask my … Continue reading Mango Lady
Do you really think kindness is the answer to school shootings? I don't.
An unhinged train conductor increases speed well past safety...
Today I had my first book signing (nobody really tells you that any "firsts" as an adult pretty much come with a side of terror/quaking in one's boots -- and yes, those were literal boots for me today because Texas). I found the prospect terrifying, yes -- but it goes well with 2018's theme of … Continue reading Baby’s Firsts (Boldly), and a Word about Accessibility
Telling someone you're a writer is always quite the experience...
Dear 2017, As tempting as it was to leave this at, "Bye, bitch!"...I feel there is more that needs to be said, in fairness. Thank you, 2017, for showing me that what I thought were mortal wounds -- though they be grievous and still-unhealed -- weren't. Thank you for arranging it, somehow, such that even … Continue reading Dear 2017
What is the most powerful sentence in existence?
Thanks to Facebook's "On This Day" feature, it was brought to my attention that my latest ink is a year old today. [Clearly it's time for something new!] It's been quite a conversation-starter, this particular tattoo. It's just line work, but it's different enough to make people stop and ask, "What is that? What does … Continue reading Happy Birthday to…my Ink?
When I was in second grade (back when dinosaurs still roamed the earth), our report cards were handwritten. There was a nice long section on the back for comments from the teacher -- none of this comment-by-number computerized mess. I always received glowing praise about my "sunny disposition" or my good grades -- except one … Continue reading What Optimism Isn’t